Firsts
by Elephantian
Summary: There's always a first for everything... trips to the dentist, first steps, first...everything! Take a look at the Bohemian's firsts.
1. Trip to the Dentist

**Well, this is a little fic to keep me entertained until school lets out and I can continue with my other fics. On Friday the 16 I'll update each one of my stories as a celebration because it's the last day of school. Enjoy!**

Eight people were sprawled out all over a shabby loft in New York City, recollecting on old times. These people included Mark, Roger, Collins, Mimi, Maureen, Joanne, Angel and Benny.

"I have an idea!" Maureen suddenly said excitedly, breaking the bored silence, "Why don't we choose a topic, and describe our first time with it!"

"But what if you don't remember?" Mark asked.

"Then do the first one you remember." Maureen answered simply.

It sounded simple enough and thus the trip down Firsts Road began.

**Trip to the Dentist**

Mark was always at the dentist. Not because his teeth were in bad shape, but because his dad was a dentist. When it was their turn to visit Dad (their parents were divorced), he'd take Cindy and Mark to work with him.

Mark didn't remember his first time to the dentist, but he did remember the first time he went to Dad's office without Cindy.

Mark sat in the back of his dad's car, shivering with nervousness. At six he was a very shy child and was frightened of the skinny, geeky man in the front seat whose glasses were continuously falling down his nose. Mark had always been told he looked like his father (other than his blond hair and blue eyes, which he'd gotten from his mother, who's great-grandparents were from Sweden). Of course, the boy wasn't sure if looking like his dad was good or bad.

Mark paled and started whimpering when the 'scary man' in the front seat glanced back at him.

"Hey Mark," his dad said.

Mark wasn't sure what to say. Mommy had told him this man was his daddy, but what about the daddy back home? The one who was Monica and Geraldine's daddy? If he was daddy, who was this stranger driving him to who-knows-where?

"H-H-hi," Mark replied meekly.

As if he could read Mark's mind, the man said, "You know what Mark? I don't want to confuse you. Daddy may be back home with Cindy and Mommy, but I'm your _real_ daddy. But, as I said, I don't want to confuse you, so just call me Rick, okay?"

Mark nodded. Rick. Daddy at home, and Rick on the weekends. He could keep that straight.

They soon arrived at the office and Mark struggled to read the sign posted above the building.

"D-d-deen-te-e-est. Dentist! Dacktur…Duckteer…oh, Doctor Reechurd Cohen (he recognized his last name), DDS." Mark said proudly.

Rick smiled and nodded. "That's right Mark, dentist. Doctor Richard Cohen, DDS. That's me. Do you know what a dentist is Mark?"

Mark nodded. "Yup. It's a guy that fixes peoples' tooths."

"Do you want to help me 'fix people's teeth' Mark?" Rick asked.

Mark's eyes lit up. "Oh yes!" he squealed.

* * *

Roger grumbled under his breath. Now that mom had finally gotten a job with a dental plan he was going to the dentist. He'd heard bad stories about dentists before. Or was it just the stories that he made up to scare the little kids? Like how dentist's had long, razor sharp claws that cut your teeth out. He'd must have made that one up. 

"Hello there Roger," a woman said sweetly, "How are you."

"Why do you give a shit?" Roger asked, wowing the hygienist with his crude language.

"Because I'm here to be your friend," the woman finally answered.

"Yeah right."

"Roger, how old are you?"

"Eight."

The hygienist's eyes grew wide. "That's some pretty interesting talk for an eight-year-old."

"Oh fuck off babe." Roger said, not completely understanding everything.

The hygienist was flabbergasted. "Where did you learn that language from?" she asked.

"My Pop," Roger answered, "He talks like that to my mom. They moan and yell stuff like that in the middle of the night. Sometimes it's kinda desperate sounding, but other times they're really mad."

The hygienist blushed, wondering if the boy sitting in the chair knew exactly what was going on between his parents.

"They've been saying stuff like that less and less," Roger continued, "One time they only did it once in an _entire year_! Nine months later I got a baby sister, but she's in heaven now."

The hygienist didn't say a word to that and just began cleaning the boy's teeth, wondering when his next appointment was so she could take the day off.

* * *

Collins sat in his chair quietly, not squirming a bit. This was his first dental checkup since his parents died in a car crash and his arrival at the orphanage. Tears formed in his eyes as he remembered his own dad. He'd been a dentist and Collins was sure that the orphanage dentist wouldn't hold up a light to his dad. That being the case, Collins had become close with the hygienists as the office. They'd gotten him a big cake for his last birthday, when he turned ten.

"Thomas," Miss Crawford said stoutly, signaling that he was next up.

Collins hopped out of his chair and walked cautiously into the room. Though it did have the requirements of a dental office, the room was nothing like his father's. It was cold and lonely, while his dad's had been warm and welcoming. Collins vigorously wiped away tears and sat down.

"Ah, a new face," the dentist mused, "What's your name?"

"Thomas Maurice Collins Junior," he replied automatically as he'd been taught to do so at the orphanage, "But I like to be called Collins. It reminds me of my parents."

The dentist nodded. "Collins did you say?" he asked, "Was your dad a dentist?"

Collins nodded. "Yes," he answered, "His name was also Thomas."

"I think I knew your father Collins," the dentist said, "He was a great man. I'm sorry he's gone."

"Thank you," Collins whispered, giving the dentist a hug. Maybe this dentist wasn't too bad after all.

* * *

Mimi sat alone on the playground, trying to hold back tears. She wasn't crying because of cruelty from her peers. Quite the contrary, Mimi was one of the most popular girls in school. No, Mimi was crying because of the searing pain in her teeth.

Mimi let out a whimper as another spasm of pain shot through her jaw. She gently massaged the area, but it didn't do any good. A few tears fell down her cheeks and she quickly wiped them away.

"Mimi?" someone asked, "Are you alright?"

Mimi looked up into the kind face of her teacher, Señora Sonrisa. "Sí Señora," Mimi answered, "I'm fine."

Señora Sonrisa gave Mimi a look that said 'tell me the truth chica'. "Are you sure Mimi?"

Mimi looked down at the ground shamefully. "No Señora," she said softly, "I lied. I'm not okay. My tooth hurts muy mucho!"

"Then you should go the dentist," Señora Sonrisa said.

Mimi looked at her teacher curiously. "Dentist?" she asked, "I've never been to the dentist before."

"Well, the dentist can fix your toothache," Señora Sonrisa said before walking away.

_Dentist,_ Mimi thought to herself, _I'll have to tell Mamá about that.

* * *

_

Maureen sat in the waiting room, tapping her foot impatiently. She _hated_ going to the dentist. It was so boring! After putting up quite a fight with her mom, Maureen was stuck. And not only that, she had to miss rehearsals for the elementary school production of 'The Wizard of Oz'. Even though she was only in second grade Maureen had won the part of Dorothy.

Suddenly, Maureen had a great idea. Now was the perfect time to practice her lines! Maureen stood up in the plastic chair and began to recite.

"Do you suppose there is such a place, Toto? There must be. It's not a place you can get to by a boat or a train. It's far, far away – behind the moon – beyond the rain –"

By then Maureen had the eyes of every person in the office. The secretaries were staring, kids her age were giggling, and her mom was trying to pretend she wasn't this weird girl's mother.

And then Maureen began to sing, her voice filling every inch of space. "Somewhere, over the rainbow, way up high, there's a land I once heard of in a lullaby. Somewhere, over the rainbow, skies are blue. And the dreams that you dare to dream really do come true."

The waiting room erupted in applause. "Thank you! Thank yo-" Maureen yelled, blowing kisses before noticing the little girl that just walked in with a toy dog. Mustering up her best, crackly, Wicked Witch of the West voice, Maureen said, "I'll get you my pretty! And your little dog too!"

The little girl burst out crying and Maureen laughed her best evil laugh yet. Maybe going to the dentist wasn't so bad after all.

* * *

Joanne sat in the dentist chair, her mouth wide open, rolling her eyes. The hygienist wasn't doing it right! The brushing of teeth required a smooth, circular motion, not this jagged, crisscross thing. However, Joanne didn't say a word. She hated when people thought she was stuck up. Anyway, the last time she'd spoken out (against the teacher's poor grammar) she'd gotten a timeout.

A timeout. Joanne cringed. Joanne Jefferson _never_ got timeouts! Her parents had been outraged at the teacher and encouraged her, but Joanne never spoke out again after that.

"Time for fluoride." The hygienist said happily, pulling out two mouth trays and a bottle full of the foamy fluoride.

Joanne shook her head softly. The trays were made of Styrofoam, which was bad for the environment.

"Do you have the liquid fluoride?" Joanne asked timidly.

"Yes," the hygienist answered, "Why?"

"Because Styrofoam is bad for the environment," Joanne answered, "I'd rather use something that won't take one hundred years to disintegrate."

The hygienist looked oddly at the young girl in front of her. "Sure," she mumbled, putting away the trays and pulling out the liquid fluoride.

That day, at the dinner table, Joanne announced she wanted to be a lawyer.

* * *

Angel lived with his grandma. It was from her that he got the nickname.

"You're my little Angel," Granny said one day and the name stuck.

Angel loved his grandma, who approved and supported his decision of being gay.

Whenever it was time for a dental checkup, Granny would take Angel into the basement, where an entire dental office was set up. Back in the day, Gramps had been a dentist. Before dying he'd taught his wife how to use the machinery. He'd even taken the old instruments from his office and put them in the basement.

"Why pay for what you've got free?" he'd always ask, a question Angel could never answer.

"Angel," Granny said in her sing-song voice, 'It's time for a checkup!"

Angel smiled and scurried down into the basement, sitting comfortable in the chair.

"I'm ready Granny," he said.

Granny grinned. "I never said anything about it being your turn for a checkup Angel. You've seen me do it plenty of times on the neighbors, so now it's your turn."

Angel nervously picked up the first instrument, a wave of determination and confidence sweeping over him.

"Okay Granny, let's start."

"Why Angel," Granny declared a while later, "This is the best my teeth have looked in years! Thank you!"

Angel beamed.

* * *

Benny didn't like going to the dentist, it scared him. There were pointy tools and sterile gloves and weird chairs. No, Benny didn't like going to the dentist one bit. But then one night he thought of a good idea.

"C'mon Benny," the dentist bribed, "Open up. I'm not going to hurt you."

Benny shook his head 'no'. He was not going to open his mouth for anything.

"Please?" the dentist asked, "I'll give you a sticker."

Benny shook his head 'no' again. He was ten, not two.

The dentist pinched Benny's side.

"Ow!" Benny cried and the dentist stuck his hand into his patients mouth.

"Gotcha!"

Benny was mad. That wasn't supposed to happen! Without thinking Benny bit down hard on the dentist's hand, his mouth filling with blood.

"Ow!" the dentist squealed, running to get a band-aid for his finger.

The Coffin's weren't allowing in that dentist's office ever again. His parents were outraged. Benny was relieved.


	2. Cup of Coffee

**Sorry for the long wait, but it takes me a while to write these chapters. Suggestions are welcomed! In fact, I'd like to thank Persephone-Atrus-Remy for the coffee idea. Enjoy!**

**Cup of Coffee**

"Mark," someone said kindly, "Mark, wake up."

After a few moments of grogginess Mark shot up. "OH MY GOD!" he shouted, running around the house and gathering his school supplies, "I'M GOING TO BE LATE!"

His older sister, Cindy, grabbed him by the shoulders and held him still. "Chill out Mark," she instructed, "It's only two in the morning. You still have a few more hours."

Mark groaned and sunk back into his desk chair. "How am I going to finish this huge project if I can't stay away through the night to work on it?"

There was an awkward silence.

"Mark, have you ever had coffee?" Cindy asked.

Mark looked at his sister. "No."

Cindy nodded and disappeared to who-knows-where. When she returned, she was carrying a mug with steam rising from it. "Here, try this," she insisted, "It's light, I promise."

Mark took a swig and spit it back out. "Gross!" he shouted, setting the mug down, "That stuff is disgusting!"

Cindy shrugged and walked back out of the room.

Making sure she was gone, Mark took another gulp of the coffee. "Yum! This stuff is addicting! Who'd have thought Cindy would be right about something?"

* * *

Roger had a huge hangover. Holding his head, Roger stumbled into the kitchen, looking for something to drink. All he could find was some cheap pack of coffee his roommate, Todd, always had 'just in case'. Not really caring how mad Todd would get, Roger quickly prepared the coffee and took a sip.

He swished it around in his mouth for a while before spitting it out. It was disgustingly hot. True, it was only about twenty degrees in the apartment that wintry afternoon, but Roger had never really liked warm beverages.

Roger dumped half of the coffee into the sink and added cold water. He took a sip and swallowed it thoughtfully.

"Not half bad," he mused, taking another swallow, "Not bad at all."

After finishing his first cup of coffee Roger searched the apartment for more. Getting frustrated, he took some money and headed down to the little café two blocks down.

"Coffee," he demanded, shoving the few bills onto the counter, "Something plain."

Roger rocked back and forth on his heels until the coffee was done. He scooped up his change and ran back to the loft, making sure to not spill a drop.

When his band mates got home that evening, they found the apartment covered in empty coffee cups. Roger was sitting on the floor, drinking cold, diluted coffee. As soon as the liquid was gone, Roger pulled a few bills out of his pocket and disappeared out the door. He came back with more coffee. Todd took it away from him and Roger burst into tears.

"GIMME BACK MY COFFEE!" he screamed, lunging at Todd and causing the coffee to fall to the wooden floor. Roger's eyes widened and he fell to the floor, slurping up the liquid with his tongue.

Two of his band mates put Roger to bed and kept an eye on him while the other two cleaned up. They wouldn't let Roger have coffee ever again.

* * *

Collins' mom had to have at least two cups of coffee everyday, which was tough because she was always in the car and on the run. When her oldest, Eve, was born, she stocked up on bottles- some for the baby's milk and some for her coffee. And why not? It didn't spill and was easy to use.

One day, Mrs. Collins was extremely busy and frantic. Eve had been caught drinking and driving underage; Kelsey, the next oldest, had gotten into a fight at school; and Ozzie had run away again. Mrs. Collins scooped up baby Tom and gently rocked him, trying to stop his wailing.

She paced the kitchen, the phone in one hand, one arm supporting Tommy, and the other arm and hand preparing two bottles- one with milk and the other with coffee. She tested Tommy's bottle on her wrist and sat down to feed him. He contently chugged down it's contents and she burped him before placing him in his crib to take a nap.

When she was done talking to the principal and the police, Mrs. Collins finally had a chance to drink her coffee. Her stomach did a flip-flop when she tasted the liquid in the bottle- milk. That must have…that must have meant Tommy had her coffee. That's when Mrs. Collins' passed out.

* * *

Mimi sat in a room full of her best friends. Her bestest best friend, Bonnie Sanchez was having a sleepover and now the six girls were about to start playing truth or dare.

"I'll start," Bonnie said and no one objected, "Okay, Dora, truth or dare?"

Dora sat there for a moment, thinking. Finally, she said, "Truth."

Bonnie smirked. "Who do you like?"

Dora blushed. "Ricardo is kind of cute. Or maybe Caleb or Phillip."

The girls giggled. "Okay, my turn," Dora said, interrupting their laughter, "Mimi, truth or dare?"

Mimi thought for a moment. "Dare." She answered.

"I dare you to drink a full cup of coffee." Dora said triumphantly and the girls gasped. They'd all had a few sips of coffee, but never a full cup! It was too strong. Mimi nodded and Bonnie disappeared upstairs. She returned with a mug filled to the brim with the black, steaming liquid.

Mimi snatched the cup from her friend's hand and took a deep gulp and put down the mug. She looked at it curiously before taking another sip and another and another until it was all gone.

"Hey Bonnie-chica?" Mimi asked.

"Yes?"

"Do you have anymore coffee?"

* * *

Maureen didn't get it. Every morning her parents woke up groggy and grumpy. Then they'd have this cup of magical stuff and they'd get better. It didn't make sense.

"Happy birthday to you!" Mr. and Mrs. Johnson sung, placing a heavily frosted cake in front of their only daughter.

"Make a wish Reeny and blow out the candles," Mr. Johnson whispered to the birthday girl.

Maureen nodded and blew out all of the seven candles in one breath. "Do you wanna know what I wished for Daddy?" she asked.

"You can't say what you wished for Reeny," Mr. Johnson answered, "It won't come true."

"But how am I supposed to get what I wanted if I don't tell anybody?" Maureen questioned.

Mr. Johnson sighed in defeat. "Okay Maureen, what did you wish for?"

"I want a cup of the magical juice!"

Mr. Johnson looked confused. "Magical juice? I'm afraid I don't know what you mean Reeny."

"The stuff you and Mommy drink every morning."

Mr. Johnson laughed. "Oh, you mean coffee. You're a little to young for that Maureen."

"Pleaaaaaaaaaase?" Maureen begged, giving her father puppy-dog eyes.

"Oh, alright." He said, getting up and pouring a small amount of coffee into a cup, making sure to add a few ice cubes so his daughter wouldn't burn her tongue.

Maureen took a sip of the coffee and swallowed thoughtfully. "It's okay," she said finally, "But I like juice better."

Not too long after that Maureen was bouncing off the walls.

"What happened to her?" Mrs. Johnson asked no one in particular.

Mr. Johnson didn't say anything. He just thought _Note to self: Never let Maureen have coffee again.

* * *

_

Joanne shook her head. "No," she said, "I'm not drinking any beer! I'm the designated driver for tonight. Anyway, I find the stuff repulsive."

"Come one Josie," her friend, Simon, said, "Just one little sip."

"No," Joanne said firmly, "I don't want any. Stop asking me."

"Well then Josie," he said, "How about some coffee? There's no alcohol in coffee."

"Amazingly, I've never had coffee." Joanne said.

"Well you should try it!" Simon insisted, "I'll be right back."

Joanne tapped her foot impatiently and soon enough Simon came back with a cup of coffee. She gladly took it from him and took a large gulp, but spit it right back into her cup. "This is disgusting!" she stated, "I thought you said coffee didn't have alcohol in it."

Simon smirked. "Coffee doesn't have alcohol in it Josie," he said, "But Irish coffee does. Geez, you need to live a little. Have some fun for once in your life you party pooper!"

"I'm sorry Simon," Joanne said kindly, "But if not having fun means getting home safely, then I'm just the biggest party pooper in the world. I'm leaving Simon, see you tomorrow."

The next morning, Joanne learned that Simon had been killed while drinking and driving. She could never bring herself to drink coffee again.

* * *

Angel was at his Auntie Flora's house and she was a baker. She made pastries and cakes and other delectable goodies for all sorts of people. And of course, her favorite nephew was the official taster.

Angel licked his lips contently. "Auntie Flora," he said, "That coffee cake was amazing!"

"Thank you Angel," Auntie Flora said, blushing and putting a batch of chocolate chip cookies in the oven.

"Auntie Flora, do you think I could try some coffee?" Angel asked.

The woman laughed. "Of course you can Angel," she said, "But it won't be as good as my coffee cake."

She quickly made a pot of coffee and placed a mug in front of her nephew, who cautiously took a few sips, making a face. "I don't think I could like coffee anything after your coffee cake Auntie Flora."

* * *

Benny looked at the gift card in his hands. He'd gotten a gift card to the local coffee shop for his birthday, but he'd never had coffee before. Some great present that was.

"Well," Benny said to himself, "I guess now's as good a time as any to try the stuff."

Leaving a note for his parents, Benny slipped on his jacket and walked down the street, glad that coffee was warm as the cold wind flew through his thin coat and chilled his body.

As soon as Benny entered the café the warm scent of coffee overwhelmed him. He swayed for a moment before heading to the counter.

"Um," he said, surveying the menu board, "Can I have a…a…what do you suggest?"

The guy at the counter rolled his eyes. "Just regular coffee I guess."

"I'll have that then."

The guy put in Benny's order, filled up a cup with coffee and handed it to Benny, the cup slipping right from Benny's grasp.

"OW!" he yelled, "OW! OW! OW!"

However, everyone seemed to ignore him, until Benny shouted, "I'LL SUE!"

That's when the manager ran in. "Oh, that's not necessary sir," he said, "Let me get you a new coffee."

"No!" Benny yelped, running out of the café. He hasn't touched coffee since.


End file.
